


That Time When Jin Comes Home

by hanekawa



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 18:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanekawa/pseuds/hanekawa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Yamapi discovers talking is not so overrated after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Time When Jin Comes Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is set around that time when Jin came back from America, by the way ^0^  
> Also, Jin didn't make any appearance other than in the title :P

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“What are you doing here?” Yamapi asks with no small amount of surprise.

Kame blinked. “Visiting you?” when Yamapi keeps looking at him incredulously, he holds up a package into Yamapi’s line of sight and adds, “I bring beers.”

That seems to shake Yamapi off of his surprise, and he frowns as he takes in Kame’s appearance once more. “Aren’t you supposed to be partying all night to celebrate the return of your _precious_ bandmate?”

Kame snorts. “There’s nothing to be celebrated. We all know he would come back, so I honestly don’t understand why everybody seems to make a big deal out of his little visit to America.” Kame tells him as he pushes past Yamapi to let himself into the room, ignoring Yamapi’s half-hearted attempt to stop him. Just before he enters the living room, Kame turns back and smiles teasingly. “Also, I find it interesting, the fact you seem to avoid using his _name._ ”

“Normal people would hardly count six months a _visit_. They would consider it _moving out_.” He deliberately ignores Kame’s last sentence.

“Well, we all know Jin rarely does what normal people do.” Kame smiles.

“Really. Aren’t you the one who is not normal? Ordinary people would have given up on him before long.”

Kame looks at him. “Aren’t you the same way?”

Yamapi wonders if they are still talking about the same thing. Probably not.

Kame sighs. “I didn’t see you at the party.”

It sounds like an offer of explanation, like a way out from the trap of awkward moment they almost have, so Yamapi tackles it without further ado. He considers his answer before replying. “I just don’t want to intrude.”

Kame gives him a funny look. “You’re his bestfriend. It is only to be expected of you to be there.”

“I don’t think this is your reason for being here.” He frowns, staring into a bottle of beer Kame thrusts his way. “You’re running away, aren’t you.” He means it as a question, but the absence of higher tone at the end of the sentence makes it a statement.

“Yes and no. Yes for the former, although no for the latter.” Kame casts his eyes down, shuffling his feet in what seems to be an unconscious gesture. “I missed you.”

Yamapi’s throat constricts. “Really.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask why you seem to be avoiding me lately.” Kame says softly, still not looking at him. “Are you feeling awkward now that—now that Jin’s back? But it’s not as if you didn’t know he would be back.”

He didn’t, but that’s hardly the point. Besides, there are so many things wrong with those two last sentences that he doesn’t even know where to begin. He settles for a simple, “Er.”

Kame looks up. And frowns. “Why are you putting on such a funny look?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all! Why did you even think so?” Yamapi laughs nervously. Right. Considering his habit of babbling away incessantly whenever he’s nervous, he should stop talking. Now. Preferably forever.

Kame only looks at him calmly in that eerie way he sometimes does, as if he has all the time in the world and wouldn’t mind riding the silence for as long as possible until the other party cracks.

Considering how Yamapi has a habit of filling in the blanks for other people in order to avoid silence, it’s no surprise he cracks.

“Hahaha~ I mean, it’s not like as if we’re dating behind Jin’s back or anything, so we really don’t have any reason to feel guilty at all, right?” he laughs again, and then tries to drown himself in beer.

“Ah.” Kame says, and blinks slowly. “You know, this is the first time you ever mention that we’re actually…dating.”

Trust Kame to focus on the wrong thing. Or the right thing, depending on where you see it from―since it is a subject he has carefully avoided mentioning if he could help it. Still does, in fact.

“You’re saying we’re not?”

He stares hard at his near empty bottle of beer. Funny how he couldn’t remember how much he had drunk. He’s sure it hasn’t been that much…

“I’m saying I’m not sure.”

The bottle hit the table with a soft thud as Kame carefully deposits it on the empty space on the table with his left hand, while his right reaches for another unopened one.

Take a deep breath. Look at anything but him, since it would be easier if you do not know what kind of expression shows on his face when he rejects you.

“Do you want us to?” a million dollars question: now or never; take everything, or nothing at all.

The sound of rustling clothes as Kame moves. Yamapi doesn’t need to look to know Kame’s watching him.

“Do _you_?” soft, careful, deadly as hidden landmines. Never ask questions you can’t answer.

The ball is back on his field. Might as well go all out. He lifts his eyes to Kame.

“I wouldn’t hate it.”

Somehow he feels as if he should smile, but considering how nervy he’s at the moment, he’s afraid the smile would end up as a grimace instead--so he doesn’t.

“Ah.” Kame says.

He waits for more, but nothing comes. Only prolonged silence remains—one that he can’t say he’s comfortable with. He watches Kame, but nothing he could see indicates anything unusual—no rapid blinking, no relieved sigh, no incredulous stare, no anger, no smile, no _nothing_.

It’s then that he notices the way Kame sips his beer in a careful, measured delicate manner—something that contrasts drastically with how the other boy has drunk his drink with abandon earlier.

Could it be that the ever-composed Kamenashi Kazuya doesn’t know what to say in such situation? The absurdity of it makes him want to laugh hysterically, but then he remembers that Kame rarely does what he predicts him to, and therefore it is an actual possibility that he has just rendered the other boy speechless. _Speechless._

 _Really,_ his mind kindly scoffs.

“I’m waiting,” Yamapi says, because the uncertainty is _killing_ him.

Kame glances at him. “Are you,” he says, and again, the tone _and_ the phrasing make Yamapi wonder if that was supposed to be a question or a statement.

Kame is giving his half-empty bottle his utmost attention, his face still not betraying any emotion. The thing is, Yamapi knows Kame is very much capable of dragging the silence all night—and even _days_ —if he wants to, which is just… unacceptable. Why does he do it anyway? It’s not like _he_ is the one waiting with his heart on the line, since Yamapi is the one who—

Yamapi frowns.

 _I’m waiting_ , Yamapi said, and then Kame said, _Are you_. __

_He_ said _Are you_.

Yamapi’s eyes widen in realization. God, how could he be so stupid? It’s not a question. It’s also not a statement. Instead, it’s… It’s a confirmation.

He reaches out, his right hand gently prying Kame’s death grip on the bottle, before intertwining their fingers together. He smiles, but Kame’s still not looking at him, resolutely keeping his gaze to the bottle in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and means it.

“What for?”

“For being an ass. And an idiot.” Gently, he lifts Kame’s hand to his lips, giving it a butterfly kiss. Slowly, he looks up at Kame, but now, instead of staring at the bottle, Kame is facing away from him completely, his long bangs shielding his eyes from Yamapi’s view.

“But I was worried.” He mutters softly.

“Because of Jin.” A statement.

“I… still don’t know where I stand between the two of you. Still feel like I was stealing you while he’s away, or something. Kinda think now that he’s back, I should return you.”

“I’m not a property, you realize.” Kame says, and this time, their eyes meet.

“I just… never thought you would ever think more of me.” He admits.

“Jin is my bestfriend, just as he is also your bestfriend. I thought it’s obvious.”

Yamapi gives out a little laugh. “Yeah well, I was being stupid.” He smiles up at Kame. “Are we okay?”

Kame’s face doesn’t change, but his fingers in Yamapi’s hand give an involuntary twitch. “You mean are we still friends?”

“No.” He tightens his hold. “I mean, are we still something _more_ than friends?”

Kame tries to take his hand back, but Yamapi holds on. “Make up your mind.” A hitch in his voice.

“I did, now.” He states firmly. “I…I’m sorry I’ve never noticed it before; that you already think of me as something more than friends.”

A harsh laugh. “Yeah, well. That was obviously a bit presumptuous of me. Turns out I was the only one who assumed such.” Using his free hand, he lightly caresses one of the empty bottles in front of him.

“That’s why you’re _really_ here, isn’t it?” Yamapi asks, soft. “You want me to make sure that Jin’s return doesn’t change anything between us.”

A flicker in Kame’s eyes. “Just so you know, I’m holding something in my hand, and would be forced to use it as a weapon should the need arise. Like, the next second, if you didn’t release my captured hand immediately.”

Yamapi stares dumbly at him. “It’s a bottle.”

“A _glass_ bottle.” Kame corrects him. Lifting said bottle, he throws it in the air only to catch it again, before twirling it again with an apparent ease of a professional acrobatic. “I would _hate_ to demonstrate the point to you.”

Yamapi eyes the bottle hesitantly. “You wouldn’t.”

He raises an eybrow at him challengingly. “ _Try me_.”

Yamapi knows a real threat when he sees one, okay, but his life is not the only thing being threatened here. What would one choose anyway, when faced with choices: your life, or your heart?

He doesn’t let go.

Kame lets out a growl of frustration. His hold shifts from the body of the bottle to the neck in such a way that Yamapi knows he’s considering whether to hit the bottle directly to Yamapi’s head, or on the table and use the fragments to stab him.

“I’ve admitted that I want you. What else do you want me to say?”

Kame stares at him incredulously. “Wouldn’t hate it? _Wouldn’t hate it?_ ” Kame snorts. “Yeah, right. What a way to make somebody feel wanted.”

“I was being careful,” he says forcefully. “Just in case you didn’t feel the same.” _So that you might back away easily without feeling forced to do it.  
_  
“Oh right, you were trying to spare _my_ feelings.”

Yamapi winces. That sentence is just full of sarcasm that it would be impossible to slip anything more.

“Right. Sorry about that.”

“Sorry? _You’re sorry?_ If everything could be solved just by saying sorry, world peace would have been gained _centuries_ ago!”

Yamapi blinks. “You’re drunk,” he observes.

Kame glares. “ _Don’t you dare changing the subject, you insensitive imbecilic asshole!_ ” He proceeds to swing the bottle, but before he could complete his move, Yamapi pulls him across the table using the hand still captured in his, and takes advantage of the momentum to wrap his other hand around Kame’s middle in a half-hug.

The bottle harmlessly hit the rug with a soft _thud_.

Kame’s shivering all over, and his skin feels hot, which left no doubt in Yamapi’s mind that the other boy really is drunk. Using his now-bottle-free hand, he attempts to hit Yamapi, but there’s no force behind his every punch. Yamapi lets him, and only tightens his awkward hug further.

“You bastard,” Kame says, and even his voice shakes.

“I know.”

“You stupid, stupid, stupid asshole-y bastard,” Kame says, not completely coherent. “I hope you die a horrible, horrible death. By chopsticks. Twice.”

He lets out a chuckle. ”Okay, I deserve that.”

Silence for a while, one that Yamapi doesn’t really mind, since at least he already got his answer and gained more. He keeps stroking Kame’s hair gently, not even minding their awkward positions, until slowly, he feels the tensions leave Kame’s body as the boy sags bonelessly against him in exhaustion. Looking down, he notices that kame’s eyes are closed, a single tear visible at the corner of his right eye. Bending down slightly, he kisses the tear away; other that a slight grunt, Kame doesn’t give any indication that he notices at all—which means he’s asleep already.

As carefully as possible, he maneuvers himself around the table to Kame’s side without waking the sleeping brunet. Then, just as gently, he lies Kame down on the soft, soft rug—thank Uchi for all his insistence to force Yamapi to replace his old one—before laying down himself beside him, and covers them both with a blanket from the couch. God knows that Kame is such a light sleeper—drunk or no—that he would definitely wake up the moment he no longer feels gravity supporting him—which means, bedroom is out.

He looks at Kame. Even in sleep, the other boy looks like a second away from frowning his forehead. An aftereffect from thinking too much, obviously.

He sighs.

They really need to have a proper talk—one where every intention is stated clearly and not left out in between the lines. Which would be a miracle in itself, if it really happened.

Oh well, later is later.

With all the tenderness he could muster, he lets his lips meet Kame’s, careful not to linger too long for fear of shattering this peaceful moment. And no matter how much he insists to his brain that no, his body is not tired at all, and that he still could watch Kame sleep all night since watching is hardly an activity which requires energy, honestly, he still feels himself drifting off to dreamland, with a wish that the last thing he sees before he closes his eyes would also be the first thing he sees when he wakes up.

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 _  
fin_


End file.
